


Point of Perspective

by hellpenguin



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-06
Updated: 2006-05-14
Packaged: 2017-10-08 05:10:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 2,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/73029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellpenguin/pseuds/hellpenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How did it look through their eyes? Was is infatuation or love? Pride or weakness? Loyalty or betrayal?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Take A Look Through Another's Eyes

Perspective.  There is no right or wrong, only perspective.  Who's to say an act of kindness isn't an invasion of privacy?

Who is to say a woman, pursued by a man, is the object of his love or infatuation?  To the man, his heart is in her hands.  To the woman, he's a stalker.

Take a baby, newly orphaned and placed in the hands of his estranged aunt.  Some would say the aunt is uncaring in that she refuses his need for a mother.  Maybe the baby reminds his aunt of someone she never got to be.

In one night, what could happen?  Four lives changed forever because of one decision (or maybe mistake?)  One night and a man is sent to prison for a crime he didn't commit; in one night a man escapes despite the crime he did commit; in one night a man's guilt gnaws at the edges of his tortured soul; in one night a man is lost and abandons his only child.

A woman is lost; a woman sacrifices love for safety; a family survives at the cost of another.

What is justice?  Do the ends justify the means?  Does one death deserve another?

It's all a matter of perspective. 

It all depends on who's telling the story.


	2. Apple of His Eye

     Hair like the sunrise and sunset, eyes like the depths of the Lake. He can't stop. _If I could paint a portrait so she'll be with me forever_. He can't help it. He embarrasses himself. 

     _Lily._ A word on the tip of his tongue, sweet and unspoken. It is something about her. The way she moves. The way she speaks, even if it's to scold him. She's his poison. 

     More. It's not enough staring at her. The lake is starting to blind him and she's not taking notice of his impeccable reflexes. The snitch is even escaping half-heartedly. 

     He runs his hand through his hair nervously. He doesn't care that she hates him. He could quite possible love her. 

     In his teenage heart, he rejects his infatuation as being anything more than hormones. But hormones would have given up in the first few years.

     _I love her_. Lily. 

     He sees something in the corner of his eye, a shadow? Snape. A distraction.

     Everything else fails to get her attention except for one boy. _Does she like him or something?_ Something in him coils in anger. Time to find out. 

     He gets Sirius' attention.


	3. I Hate You So Much, I Think I May Love You

     How did it come to this? Lily doesn't remember how or when. _He wouldn't leave me alone!_ She'd turn around and there he'd be. He was annoying, selfish, and ignorant; the list could go on forever. When did he change? When did _she_ change? 

     First year, he was the only one to sit next to her on the train. She, a muggle-born. She couldn't get him to leave her alone. Second year, and she had friends. He was still never far off. 

     He had a ragtag group of friends, always pranking the castle: that black-haired boy with a steely and serious gaze; the thin bookworm with the curious scars; the rounder one, shy and well-mannered. But James, he stood out. 

     James, who wrote her bad poetry and pursued her endlessly; James, who charmed flowers into singing love songs to her during feasts; James, who didn't understand the meaning of "no." Because if he did understand it, why didn't he stop? Was she really that irresistible? 

     Maybe it was the attention that changed her point of view. After all, if he could find so much in her, was she missing something in him? 

     She found herself watching him watch her. She put a little extra something in her walk. He gave her confidence. What did she give him? _Loathing._ 

     And then he seemed to give up. He stopped stalking her. He kept to himself. She worried. Was he ill? Was it something about her? And it struck her: it was her fault. This boy worshipped the ground she walked on and made her love herself again! 

     As clingy as this boy is, she needs him. Maybe she's loved him all along, who knows? 

     _There's a thin line between love and hate._ . &lt;/p


	4. Moon Sickness

     It's a full moon evening when Remus finds out his world's changed.

     He can feel the pull of the moon in his blood, the subtle pain that foreshadows a night of bloodthirsty horror. He admires with macabre humor the luminescence of his scars when an owl taps on his window.

     The letter slips from his hands. He sways, recovers, and collapses on the floor of his flat.

_     Dead._ It's like a light goes out. He feels the hardwood floorboards beneath his fingertips and hipbones. _Dead._

     He fumbles for the letter, checking for mistakes. Did he read it wrong? But there's Dumbledore's loopy script, proclaiming the deaths of his best friends. All but one.

     Sirius. Traitor.

_     You think you know someone…_

     He stands, shaky, frozen, empty. The pain in his chest is sharp, acrid. He can smell the night coming. He has to get out.

     His shirt is caught on a tree branch, but he doesn't care. He feels the rough bark rip his sleeve, his skin. He doesn't care.

     Forbidden Forest, nighttime. The moon rips the beast from his body, tears his heart in shreds. A howl, glass-shattering and feral, and he's lost.

     It's going to be a rough night.


	5. The Blood That Binds Us

     He squirms in her arms and opens his eyes. Petunia doesn't need to read the note. Vivid green. _Lily's boy. _

     In a split second, her chest tightens. This means they're gone. _She was my sister_.

     The note unfolds in her hand. Her vision blurs slightly. This is what happens when you get messed up with those people. She tells herself Lily had it coming.

     Vernon stumbles downstairs. He puts his hand on her shoulder hesitantly; he was never good with comfort. She closes the door and turns off the light. Harry grabs her shirt in his little fist.

_This is the reality of magic. It destroys everything you love. _

     She knows now what she must do. Vernon is saying something, looking curiously at the bundle in her arms. Harry's hair falls off his forehead. Lights from the street suggest a marking there, a scar, as she now sees.

     Her sister's baby, her nephew, is one of _them._

     Petunia has a family. She will do all in her power to keep her family safe. Even if it means squashing the truth out of her own nephew.

     She closes off the part of her that wants to love him. The letter says he will be safe as long as he can call Privet Drive his home.

_They say home is where the heart is._


	6. Who Has Time For Tears?

Sirius hears the news. He stands in shock, in silence, as his world blurs around him.

He sees James and Lily's eyes meet across the Gryffindor table, James chasing a redheaded beauty, Lily sauntering away from a messy-haired ignorant prat because she knows he's watching.

Baby Harry, with his mother's eyes and his father's insatiable curiosity. And then darkness.

Darkness. Something deep inside him snaps, and the truth resonates in his blood.

_Secret Keeper._

The next thing he knows, he's loaning Hagrid his motorcycle and slamming the front door behind him. He doesn't want to accept it, let alone believe it. But he remembers James's decision. That he, Sirius, would be too obvious a choice. No one would suspect _Peter._

They would still be alive! Peter, that rat, that _scum_, when Sirius gets his hands on him--! He feels the reassurance of his wand in his pocket.

It doesn't matter, it's doesn't matter, the mantra echoes beneath the pounding of drums in his ears. It doesn't matter, _he killed them._ He stops thinking and runs.

Where would he go? After signing over their fate, after betraying his friends, what would he do? Go to party with the Death Eaters? Or hide in a hole like the traitorous rat they should have known he'd be?

Even though Sirius isn't willing to admit it, the truth comes unbidden: Peter is smart.

His feet carry him to London, and he walks right past the Leaky Cauldron. He spots a head of mousy brown hair in the crowd before him, emerging from a pub. He doesn't need to see the face to know it is Peter. He knows.

His vision goes red and he pushes rudely through the swarm of people, wand in hand.

_I'll make him pay._

Peter is swept away by a surge of people down a random street, and Sirius follows.


	7. I'll Wait If It Takes A Million Years

Azkaban. The smell of death and misery. Sirius huddled in a pool of moonlight.

He thinks he hears a howl: Remus, or his imagination dying. Remus. _How he must hate me._

A dementor glides past. Sirius doesn't flinch. He's so tolerant of decay and fear, it's a surprise he's not mad as it is.

He was so close, _so close_ to vengeance. If he had only really remembered the intelligence and the morbid, sneaky cunning of Wormtail.

_Peter_ died when James and Lily did. Wormtail is cunning. He got away. A living reminder of twisted loyalties and a knife in the dark; a stab in the back.

How did they not realize the implications of Wormtail's Animagus? Prongs: the stag because of his arrogance, his unexpected wisdom. Padfoot: lovable, stubborn, idiotically amusing lifelong companion that he is. _Was. _

And Wormtail. A sneaky, fearful creature that'd bite its own leg off to get out of a trap. Did they not see it coming?

How does he live with himself?

There is only one thing that keeps Sirius alive. The thought that he'll see Wormtail someday, and personally end that creature's miserable existence. So, stealthily and miserably, a plan hatches in Sirius' shattered mind.

And the dementors never saw it coming.


	8. Untouchable

It's never a mistake to have too many wards.

When the coin in James' pocket grew hot and the Sneakoscope on the coffee table started spinning, James and Lily moved as one.

Wand in hand, James leaps over the sofa and kisses his wife as she flees the room. He listens as her footsteps die away, hand shaking, and jumps with the sound of the front door opening.

He closes his eyes and his mind goes blank. What curses, what charms to keep _him_ away?

The sound of Harry crying makes his heart pound.

Footsteps on the stairs.

James blocks the hallway to the nursery with his body and tries to think. He fires every curse and jinx he that come to mind at the stairs: make them a slide, make them sticky, make them disappear, anything!

Robes, rustling.

When the hooded figure comes in sight and sees the stairs, he laughs, high-pitched and loud. A wave of his wand and he floats up past the stairs, lands in front of James.

_Expelliarmus_! _Protego!_ Was that all the silly boy could think of?

He will not get to Lily!

_Avada Kedav-!_ _Expelliarmus!_

James' wand shoots out of his hand, hits the family portrait, and falls with a rattle to the floor. _I will not die like a coward!_

James faces Voldemort with defiance in his eyes, watches as he raises his wand, and closes his eyes. _Peter._

_Avada Kedavra!_ A flash of green, like Lily's eyes.

 

Lily runs up the stairs, two at a time, throws down charms behind her. She bursts into the nursery, seals the door behind her, and runs to Harry's crib.

As if sensing his mother's panic, he starts to cry. She holds him to her breast and remembers everything she ever learned about spells.

Laughter, drifting up the stairs.  Her focus slips. _The baby. Protect Harry._

She remembers reading something about spells, about love. At the time, she was only wondering if James had put a spell on her. She allows herself a small smile.

Shouting in the stairway, a soft thump of wood on wood. No! All she needs is time!

Love, love, a bond, a spell; something about blood…

She hears the final shout, the slump of a body to the floor. _James!_

She starts to cry. Footsteps on the stairwell.

_Love, a spell, blood. James would bleed for her, she would bleed for James; they would die for Harry now._ She finds the words she needs and places Harry in his crib.

A wand to his heart, a fleeting whisper. She was always good with charms.

The door is blasted off its hinges.

Voldemort, tall and dark and armed, in the doorway.

You will not have him! _Silly girl, he is already mine._

Her wand to her heart, her free hand on Harry's, she ends the spell with a word and Voldemort sees their clasped hands glow, raises his wand.

Our love runs in his blood, and you can not take him!

_Avada Kedavra!_


	9. In Order To Be A Pureblood, You Have To Appear Dead

How strange.

They say he's a pureblood, but he doesn't act like one. All the purebloods Peter knows are uptight and quiet.

Who is this boy that is so loud on the train? He's so excited, so full of energy. It's only Hogwarts, he was only _destined_ to come here. Didn't his parents teach him anything?

_Mum would be shocked._

There's a boy with him, and you can tell he's a pureblood, right down to the cold grey eyes. They look so odd together: one glowing so bright he could be his own sun, the other so quiet and subdued…

Peter looks around his compartment, at his bags and his silence. The window holds promises of boredom well-spent. His eyes drift back to the compartment across the way.

His hair is messy, first of all. What type of well-raised boy from an upstanding family would walk around with messy hair? At least the other boy has the decency to keep his hair tamed, even if it is a tad too long for normal standards.

Second of all, his glasses are askew. There are flecks of dirt and fingerprint smudges all over the lenses. Doesn't he know a simple cleaning charm?

Third of all…

He's so animated. Peter was never so full of life. He was taught how to behave, to be well-mannered. Let them never see you sweat.

The witch with the cart rolls down the hall, cuts off Peter's stare. Does he want anything? He stands, grateful for the distraction. A chocolate frog would be nice.

On the other side of the cart, _that boy_ is rummaging in his pockets. He pulls out a galleon and grabs a handful of sweets. His eyes meet Peter's.

_A smile_.

Does Peter want to hang out with them? His friend looks at Peter with narrowed eyes.

He's dragged into the compartment, bags forgotten. Introduction: James, Sirius. Peter Pettigrew.

Well, Peter Pettigrew, you can call me James.

Nice to meet you, James.


	10. Truth And Dare

Remus has a secret.

He's silent, book in hand, pretending to read. _It's amazing what you can hear when no one thinks you're listening._

James and Sirius plot about Snape again. Peter's listening aptly, trying to look as if he doesn't care, adding in occasional devious thoughts.

_Tonight._ How long did he expect them to not notice?

He'll be gone and they'll ask unanswerable questions, again. He'll come back wounded and distant, again. His silence will make him a third wheel, again. Friendships will weaken, again. He lives in two cycles.

His bones ache in anticipation.

It's like he lives in another world. He has a secret identity. He looks in the mirror and flinches, unrecognizable.

He realizes the room got silent. He looks up. The room has emptied. He sees a meaningful glance pass between James and Sirius. Peter looks shifty. Do they need his wisdom for a prank?

They say they know.

Know what? _Oh._

It hits him. _That._ Well, it was great while it lasted.

The Marauders have a secret. They pull Remus out of the common room, out of the castle. Into the forest. They say they've been practicing.

_They're going to kill me for what I am._ Remus assumes the worst and goes into a trance, feels the pump of blood in his ears, watches as the sun sets.

You're our friend, Remus, our _brother_.

James shifts, and it's like watching a Change during an out-of-body experience, only it's not into a werewolf that James settles. It's into a stag.

_I think I'm going to be sick._ He gets nauseous, watching his friends cross a barrier for him.

Peter bends gracefully to the ground, and his body ripples and shrinks. A rat.

Sirius smiles, huddles into himself and falls to the ground on all fours. A dog.

The moon starts to rise. Remus doubles over. A stag nudges his shoulder with an antler, a rat circles his feet, a dog licks his cheek.

Remus smiles.

_Pack_


End file.
